The Golden Myth
The seal is missing, Elias said, tapping the table with a knuckle that was split and raw from the plaster dust, and the tavern keeper, a man named Silas who looked as if he had been boiled in the same vat of stale ale he served, merely shrugged and went back to wiping a glass that was already clean. Julian laughed, a short, dry sound that seemed to bounce off the damp stone walls, and leaned...
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